


just you

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond, Kissing in the Rain, Kylo Ren Redemption, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Not Related, Movie: Star Wars: Episode IX, Outdoor Sex, Porn with Feelings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: At the end of it all Kylo Ren kneels before her, drenched in Batuu's heavy rainfall. His eyes are on her, asking for forgiveness. As if Rey hasn't forgiven him already.





	just you

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this by assortedfruitsnacks212's [little comic](https://assortedfruitsnacks212.tumblr.com/post/169982940710/im-such-trash-art-by-julia-harrison) over on tumblr. I changed the setting/timeline just so it could be an end-of-trilogy piece, but the dialogue remains entirely intact. This was also a good excuse to dust off my smut writing skills. An infinite amount of love and gratitude goes to my friends Idamdra and Isharen who helped me edit this as well. Smut is hard.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think! I'm on [tumblr](https://intrinsicreylo.tumblr.com) if you wish to find me there.

Rey’s heart breaks when she enters the market square. With each step she takes, the heels of her boots grind against the cracked rubble and her heart cracks a little more. Just the other week Black Spire Outpost’s gathering place was alive and brimming with joy, everyone welcoming Resistance fighters with open arms. Conversations shared between locals could be heard everywhere as children darted across the streets and wove through the stalls. The Force had hummed, bright with energy. Now, it’s barren, abandoned in the wake of the First Order’s destruction. Rey hasn’t felt this kind of sullen silence since Ahch-To, where the fog had hung thick around the dead tree, suffocating the Force around it.

Rey looks up to the sky at the first sound of thunder, a low and deep rolling above her. Where there should have been colourful tapestries, the storm clouds loom dark and swollen with the threat of the first heavy rain of the season. Looking back down, she isn’t sure whether it’s the first raindrops or first tears running down her cheek, as she takes in the bright yellows and oranges of torn awnings and greens and blues and reds of the broken down displays staining the dusty remains of Merchant Row.

All this suffering, and for what? 

_A victory_ , Rey reminds herself. She breathes the muggy air in deep. The galaxy is safe now. Except—not yet. There’s still one thing, one more thing. And the thought of it sets Rey’s stomach twisting itself into knots. She had hoped it wouldn’t come to this, every day. The galaxy needs to be free from Kylo Ren, and yet—

She doesn’t think she can do it. The fate of the whole galaxy feels as if it’s resting on her shoulders, crushing her chest, making it hard to breathe. And yet—

Anger surges through her veins electric hot, buzzing like the blade of a lightsaber too close to her skin—at the galaxy, for making her choose; at herself, for not being able to let go of him. For being so selfish to want something for herself. All she had wanted was one thing; this lonely scavenger from Jakku who had to scrape by on her own all these years had begged and pleaded with the entire galaxy until she realized it would take this from her too.

“Rey.”

Her heart pounds against her chest, pressing painfully against her ribcage despite her best efforts to keep calm. As she turns to face him it starts raining.

Pouring. He becomes a black mirage, blurred between the droplets as he stalks closer. Rey squeezes the hilt of her lightsaber. Slick with rain, the cool metal is slippery against her palm and hard to grip.

“Ben.” The name rolls off her tongue, as easy as breathing. “They’ll be looking for you now. You’re the only one left.”

“Ben Solo is dead,” Kylo Ren says. “I can’t go back.”

This close, Rey can see him properly. The scar that bisects his face, wide and puckered with dead flesh, is enough of a reminder that he is no longer the boy Han and Leia knew and hoped to save. She searches his eyes, finding herself getting lost in them again, swept up by the conflict within. 

Her resolve crumbles within moments. She wants to collapse on the ground, scream out for the galaxy to hear: _I can’t do this._ She digs her heels into the ground, refuses to ignite her lightsaber.

“Is it true?” She has to ask. “Did you murder General Hux?”

“The Resistance wouldn’t have survived as long as it has if had Hux been alive to see the battle on Corellia.” Kylo’s face betrays nothing, not even the faintest flicker of emotion. 

Rey feels unmoored, searching his face for a spark or a light, something to hold on to, something to hold out hope for.

“He would have destroyed you. He couldn’t see that the end was between you and me. That it had to be just us.”

“Please don’t do this. I can’t. Not again.”

She had thought she cut their bond on Crait, but she had found herself longing for him in ways she hadn’t expected: his presence, always at the back of her mind, had been a little reminder that she was never alone; his thumb brushing over hers by the fire had said just as much. That might have been why she found herself at odds with him later, why she had _wanted_ to find herself at odds with him whenever they met on the battlefield. She had needed to know if he was truly gone, but every time they had met she had seen something in him that could be saved.

“I thought I wanted this,” Kylo says finally. His eyes are on her, but Rey knows they’re seeing something else entirely. She knows where his mind really is; back on the _Supremacy_ , the empty throne staring right back at him, mocking him. Just like Snoke’s head had mocked Rey as she forced herself to leave.

“I was wrong. I never wanted this. Just you.”

Relief washes over Rey. She’s seen this coming for months, dreamt of it every night, clinging to the hope that the Force would show her the truth and not some fabrication to cloud her senses. It can be truly over now; this war, everything. And they can start building something new, together. No matter how long it takes. 

“Kylo.” The sound of Rey’s voice brings Kylo back to her. He falls to his knees with the sudden weight of this confession, this burden he’s kept inside his heart for so long. Kylo Ren kneels before her silently for a long while, his long dark robes and thick cloak drenched by Batuu's heavy rainfall. His eyes are on her, asking for forgiveness. As if Rey hasn't already.

Rey’s knees give out from under her and she falls into Kylo; he gathers her into his arms immediately, pulling her close to his chest where Rey can almost feel the steady beat of his heart. She heaves a broken sob that leaves her chest aching. _Ben_ would never come back for her. 

But Kylo _has_. The Kylo Ren born out of the deepest darkness in Ben Solo—he had crawled his way back to the light, back to her. Rey reaches out, tentatively at first. As soon as she feels his skin warm and real against her hand, she cups his face, allowing herself this little moment that has been denied to them for so long. He holds her gaze as she traces her thumb along the ridge of his jaw, over the scar that had bound them together.

It would be easy, so easy for Rey to tilt her head towards him. Press their lips together.

“You have me,” Rey promises. And giving in is as easy as breathing, knowing that Kylo will take all that she is ready to give to him. “You have me.”

Their noses bump. Kylo crushes his lips against Rey’s. The whimper between them is drowned out by the loud crash of thunder above as Kylo pulls Rey impossibly closer. Rey allows herself to fall on his lap, bracketing his thighs within the strong vice of her own, terrified he’ll slip right out from under her, vanish from her sight. That she’ll wake up and realize that this was all a dream.

Kylo traces her neck, the leather of his glove soft and slick against her wet skin until his fingers tangle in her hair, bringing her back to him. She kisses him fervently, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that warms her belly even as she starts to tremble from the cool rain. Then, Kylo’s tongue is pressing into the fold of her lips, a request Rey immediately grants. She gasps as he traces her teeth and strokes her tongue in between them. All this, yet Rey yearns to be _closer_ still, afraid to let go.

Rey chases his lips, desperate for more than his warm breath on hers. She hushes him with little kisses when his chest heaves, but her heart still hurts for him when she sees his tears falling to mix with the rain. She tries to wipe them away, caressing his cheekbone with her thumb.

“Don’t be afraid,” Rey says softly. She presses her forehead to Kylo’s, touching her nose to his. 

There’s a small alcove behind them where part of a building wall was spared from the TIE bombers. Kylo takes Rey there, stepping over a broken support beam that offers a semblance of privacy. The rain has started to seep in, dampening the ground. Rey watches, every inch of skin tingling with anticipation, as Kylo unwraps the cloak from his shoulders. He follows her as she lies down on it, catching her lips with little kisses that leave them both hungry for more. Rey pushes the thick locks of dark, dripping hair from Kylo’s face, tucking them behind an ear as he pushes the grey wrap from her shoulders. He tilts his head away from her touch. Rey rolls her eyes, rising up to kiss and nip at the shell of his ear until she hears a snort. She lets him swat her away, only to find a fragile smile lifts his lips. Rey rewards him with a giggle of her own.

“Kylo”—the name sounds foreign on the back of her tongue, uttered softly—“you don’t have to hide anymore. Not from me.”

The words echo off the stone walls, louder than the rain outside. Muted now, it seems miles away. It’s just them here, now, in this space they’ve carved out for themselves. 

Kylo’s chin trembles, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to when Rey looks back into his eyes and sees a dark, vast galaxy focused only on her. Rey’s belts and holsters are discarded before Kylo pushes her shirt up past her belly, her ribs, her chest, exposing the skin the sun has never got to kiss. Rey shivers, the air that had felt so hot and damp before is cooler against the newly exposed skin. And he still has those damned gloves on. Rey huffs as the shirt slips over her head and Kylo’s gloved hands immediately go back to her sides. Her own bare fingers intercept, drawing them away. Kylo looks down at their fingers laced together, light and dark, like he’s been chastised. 

“Tell me you don’t want this.” The defiant spark ignites his eyes and for the first time Rey sees his longing, a fierceness that makes him come alive again, willing to fight.

“I want _you_ , Kylo.” Rey traces her fingers down his palm, chasing the leftover droplets of rain as they slip down the leather, trailing to his wrist. She sneaks a careful finger under the tight edge of his glove to brush over the warm skin of his palm. She’s pierced with the same longing she had first felt in that hut on Ahch-To by the fire, Kylo’s phantom touch doing more to warm her than the fire had. She looks back at him as his fingers shake harder than they had that night. 

The shared memory hangs heavy between them. The sensation—she sees how the memory of it has haunted him too, in the early hours, when he’s desperate to sleep, begging the darkness to take him under again. But this time Rey’s hand is solid and real against his, this time they meet of their own volition, and he wants this just as badly as he did then. 

“ _Please,_ ” Rey says. She wants to feel him, his skin against hers, and she helps him pull off the glove. Kylo’s hand trembles under Rey’s touch without his familiar armor. He opens his fingers slowly as Rey slides her palm against his and locks their fingers together again.

Kylo lets her, even as he pulls himself back instinctively to the shadows created by the wall, hiding where Rey can only see half his face.

“I know I don’t deserve this,” Kylo admits. He squeezes his eyes shut, but Rey shakes her head and reaches out to him, her hand disappearing in the darkness until she finds the curve of his cheekbone. Lightning flashes overhead, illuminating them both for a moment before the thunder crashes in, plunging them into darkness again. “Don’t say things like that.” 

Kylo yanks off the other glove and sheds his tunic. He pulls Rey back onto his lap and Rey goes gladly, settling against him; bare and chest-to-chest, Kylo exhales unsteadily. Her fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer. Kylo’s lips tremble against hers, against her skin. He kisses over her cheek, her chin, the sweet spot under her jaw until she’s gasping and squirming against him, tilting her neck up to expose the smooth column of her throat to him. He kisses her there hungrily as his hands caress her breasts, scraping his teeth against the pulse throbbing under her skin. Rey grinds her hips down against him, hoping her desires are explicit. She grins when she finds him in the same state, half-swollen against the inseam of her pants. 

And then Kylo’s mouth is on her breast, his tongue teasing her nipple between his teeth until the butterflies in her stomach burst into flames and her nipple is swollen and aching in the sweetest of ways. Rey rocks her hips, steady, feeling Kylo’s arousal growing against the dampness slicking her pants. His fingers press in between her legs, feeling the mess he’s made of her under her clothes.

“Take these off,” he grunts, tugging Rey’s pants to her knees. She unzips his own, desperate to have him inside her. Kylo frowns at her when she takes his hand away from her thighs, but is rewarded when she takes two of his fingers into her mouth, sucking them gently. 

Rey sucks in a sharp breath when the fingers slip past her folds, plunging into her cunt. The feeling of having fingers that aren’t her own there is foreign to her, and his are so _long,_ so _rough_. Rey gives a quiet little cry when the calloused pad of his thumb pushes against her clit and spreads his fingers inside of her. She bites her lip as he stretches her until the pain fades into a dull pleasurable ache that has her canting her hips, rocking down onto his fingers to take them to the knuckles in search of _more_. She needs Kylo inside her, filling her deepest places.

“ _Kylo._ Please.”

She whimpers when Kylo finally relents, leaving her feeling empty without his fingers. But she watches impatiently as he takes the head of his cock, already dripping precome, and presses it against her folds. The thunder bursts again directly above them, drowning out Rey’s sharp cry as his cock slips past her entrance. Rey’s fingers clench around the meat of Kylo’s thigh, grasping for any sort of purchase as she loses herself to this new pleasure. Rey rocks her hips against Kylo’s belly, gently easing him inside of her until she’s full and throbbing, aching for release. Kylo grunts, digging his fingers into the curves of Rey’s hips when she starts to ride him in earnest. 

_I won’t last._ Kylo huffs, trembles under Rey. Pride swells in Rey’s chest, knowing that she is the one doing this to him, he’s coming undone under her touch alone, she has him at her mercy. She watches as the mask on his face slowly slips away into something entirely and truly vulnerable, knowing it mirrors her own. She watches him as he watches her as they rock and press and move together while the storm rages on outside. She wants to savour this moment because it’ll be the first of many, she knows this now.

Rey feels the familiar sensation rising in her belly, like a hot coil tightening, driving her to press closer, take Kylo deeper, until her fingers are digging into the skin of his back as she fights for any semblance of control as he thrusts against her. Then, Kylo’s thumb works its way to her clit, rubbing rough circles until a new, sharper pleasure is lancing through the dull ache. Rey cries out as she crests, pent up pleasure coursing through her belly and her thighs. Kylo caresses her clit between his fingers until the waves fade, leaving her shaking and boneless. Kylo follows quickly, spilling inside of her with a quiet grunt hidden in her hair.

He kisses the top of her head as she rests against his chest. She can taste his pleasure; he’s content with her finally at his side. A quiet whisper shivers through her mind, a wordless thought that grows into a sensation of—suddenly, the realization crashes over her. She had felt it when they were connected physically, but now, Rey can feel her thoughts being penetrated with a voice that isn’t hers; an undercurrent of thoughts running beneath her own. A familiar darkness that feels like company. Feels like home. 

The Force is connecting them again. Not Snoke, not some trick of the dark side, just them.

Rey grins brightly, sending a quiet little _thank you_ that echoes through their new bond.

Kylo blinks, trying in vain to stop the tears from threatening to spill over.

“For what?” 

“For coming back to me,” Rey says.

“I don’t deserve this.” Kylo grimaces and the tears fall. He shudders as Rey gathers him into her arms, feeling the emotions rising up and surging violently within him like Ahch-To’s sea. Rey’s heart hurts for him even as she tries to calm him. Kylo goes willingly as she pulls him against her chest, settling his head right above her heartbeat as she strokes her hands through his hair.

Even after all he’s done for the Resistance, for the galaxy, even if no one else knows but them—

“No. Don’t say that.”

“The darkness. It’s still there,” Kylo admits. “Even without Snoke I feel its pull.”

Rey places a steady hand on Kylo’s own, gathering it into hers. 

“All Jedi struggled with this. Me. Luke. It’s always there, you just have to keep fighting. You have to choose to keep fighting.”

“Sometimes at night—” Kylo swallows around the words caught in his throat. _It feels like I’m drowning._ “I can’t do this alone.”

“I know.” _You don’t have to._


End file.
